Page 18 of Memories of Us

Warmth bloomed at every point of contact between us, making the already hot night unbearable. One hand snaked into my dark, curly hair while the other stroked down my spine before grabbing a handful of ass cheek over my dress and pressing me harder against him.

My soft moan gave him access to deepen the kiss. Warning bells rang in my head, but my heart and everything below the waist urged me to ignore the what-ifs and live in the glorious moment. Because right then, in that moment, I was kissing him and he was kissing me.

In a controlled roll, he settled me beneath him, his heavy weight pressing my back into the soft cushions.

“Want to rethink the no touching, Beks?” he said against my lips before sucking down my neck. “I sure as hell wish you would. No way I'll be able to keep my hands off you. Not when you look like this, when you smell fucking delicious.”

A soft content sigh passed my lips. Who was I kidding? He was right.

“Mr. Graves?”

At the familiar voice, my eyes popped open and focused in the direction of faint steps.

Shit.

Shoving against Brenton's shoulders, I leveraged him off just in time to crawl over the back of the wicker couch and fall to the pool’s concrete decking.

A light chuckle sounded above. “You're ridiculous.”

Staring out from beneath the couch, Brenton's dress shoes pressed to the ground facing our approaching unexpected visitor.

“Mr. Graves, there you are,” said the head housekeeper. “Your father said you headed out this way.”

“Something I can do for you, Mrs. Hathway?” There was no mistaking the lingering hint of humor in his tone.

Bastard.

If he knew the rumor mill started and stopped with her, he wouldn't find all this funny. The sweet, kind, judgy woman standing in front of him single-handedly ruined me. Okay, technically I did that to myself, but she was the one who spread the news around town. Wonder what Brenton would think of her if he knew that tidbit.

“Oh no. I was about to turn in and wanted to see if you needed anything else from the other staff or me.”

Needed anything? Wow. How nice would it be to have someone check in on you? I'd love to raise my hand and ask for a bottle or two of wine, but considering I went to all the trouble to hide, I'd better not. This woman was public enemy number one when it came to who could not know about Brenton and me talking again.

So even though I'd forget the glass and drink straight from the bottle right now, I'd stay right there sweating on the ground until she left.

“No, ma'am. I'm fine, thank you for asking. But I guess you should know that I'll be staying for a few days. Until the attorneys come. I'm not sure of my father's plans, but please let the other staff know I'll be here.”

The slight pause before her response spoke volumes. “Yes, sir, but may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Your decision to stay, does it have anything to do with that girl Rebeka Harding?”

Silently I groaned and tapped my forehead against the rough concrete. Seriously, lady? Mind your own damn business and leave so I can crawl back under the sexy beast.

“That woman, you mean. And no, it doesn't.” No humor remained in his flat tone.

“Right, sorry, sir. None of my business, I guess.”

“That's correct. Good night, Mrs. Hathway.”

Damn.

Even as her shoes disappeared, I stayed on the ground. What the hell was I doing? It was a terrible idea. Kissing him, being close—I was playing with fire. He was the match and gasoline. Plus, once he remembered what he chose after the accident, what he had me sign, what would he do then?

“Coast is clear,” B said, still on the other side of the couch.

The concrete bit into my palms as I pushed up to stand. “I changed my mind. This is a terrible idea.” I didn't look up, focused on dusting the debris from my palms down my dress. “I'll go.” Maneuvering around him, I took two steps before his hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me to a halt.

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